and tempting, I
fear," and he glanced at several of the roundest monks, who shuddered in
their tight gowns. But the Abbot himself was the fattest of them all,
and he spoke with feeling.

So it was decided. Gerasimus let the lion sleep a good long nap, to put
him in a fine humor. But when it came time for supper he mixed a bowl of
porridge and milk and filled a big wooden platter with boiled greens.
Then taking one dish in each hand he went up to the lion and set them in
front of his nose.

"Leo, Leo, Leo!" he called coaxingly, just as a little girl would call
"Kitty, Kitty, Kitty!" to her pet. The lion lifted up his head and
purred, like a small furnace, for he recognized his friend's voice. But
when he smelled the dishes of food he sniffed and made a horrid face,
wrinkling up his nose and saying "Ugh!" He did not like the stuff at
all. But Gerasimus patted him on the head and said, "You had better eat
it, Leo; it is all I have myself. Share and share alike, brother."

The lion looked at him earnestly, and then dipped his nose into the
porridge with a grunt. He ate it all, and found it not so very bad. So
next he tried the greens. They were a poor dessert, he thought; but
since he saw that Gerasimus wanted him to eat them he finished the
dish, and then lay down on the hearth feeling very tired.

Gerasimus was delighted, for he had grown fond of the lion and wanted to
keep him. So he hurried back to the dining hall and showed the empty
dishes to the Abbot. That settled the lion's fate. Thenceforth he became
a member of the monastery. He ate with the other monks in the great
hall, having his own private trencher and bowl beside Gerasimus. And he
grew to like the mild fare of the good brothers,--at least he never
sought for anything different. He slept outside the door of his master's
cell and guarded the monastery like a faithful watch-dog. The monks grew
fond of him and petted him so that he lived a happy life on the hill,
with never a wish to go back to the desert with its thorns.

II.

WHEREVER Gerasimus went the lion went also. Best of all, Leo enjoyed
their daily duty of drawing water from the river. For that meant a long
walk in the open air, and a frolic on the bank of the Jordan. One day
they had gone as usual, Gerasimus, the lion, and the stupid donkey who
was carrying the filled jar on his back. They were jogging comfortably
home, when a poor man came running out of a tiny hut near the river, who
begge